Best Guarded Secret
by TJ-TeeJay
Summary: It was probably his best guarded secret, and now they knew. It was going to be a nightmare. 300-word triple drabble. PG, Gen.
1. Best Guarded Secret

**Title: **Best Guarded Secret  
><strong>Author: <strong>TeeJay  
><strong>whitecollar100<strong> **Prompt:** Secret  
><strong>Genre: <strong>Gen  
><strong>CharactersPairings:** Peter, OFC, OMC x2  
><strong>Word Count: <strong>300  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG  
><strong>Summary: <strong>It was probably his best guarded secret, and now they knew. It was going to be a nightmare.  
><strong>Author's Note: <strong>This is kind of an inside joke between afiawri and me. And for some strange reason, I still wanna break out in giggles.  
><strong>Disclaimer: <strong>White Collar, its characters and its settings belong to Jeff Eastin and USA Network. And, guys? Your characters are not only welcome, they're wonderful. I'm just borrowing, I promise.

* * *

><p>"Excuse me, we're looking for Hubert."<p>

The young FBI agent looked up at the odd couple, maybe in their early 60's. Visitor's badges were clipped to their clothes. The accent clearly indicated they were from one of the southern states, maybe Texas. The woman was nervously wringing her hands.

"Come again?" Agent Bottler asked.

"Hubert," the woman repeated. "Hubert Pretzelman. We were told he works here."

Agent Bottler frowned. "I'm sorry, but I don't recognize that name. I don't believe there's anyone working here with that name."

"But we were _told_ he works here," she repeated.

"And you are?"

The man now spoke up. "Mr. and Mrs Pretzelman."

_Ah. __That made sense._ The woman fumbled in her purse and produced a photo, which she held out to the FBI agent.

"This is Hubert. You don't recognize him?"

Agent Bottler took the photo and did a double-take. He was ten, maybe fifteen years younger, but the resemblance was unmistakable. He cleared his throat before he asked, "Could I have that photo for a moment? I will be right back."

Mrs. Pretzelman looked a little unsettled, but then nodded and confirmed, "Certainly."

"Please wait here." Agent Bottler gave the couple a last look and then went up the stairs to Burke's office, carefully knocking on the door.

Peter looked at him through the glass wall, beckoning him in. "Bottler, what have you got?"

"I—uhm, I'm..." he stammered.

"Come on, out with it."

Bottler hesitantly handed Peter the photo. "See the couple down there? They just showed me this photo, asking for Hubert Pretzelman."

"Hubert Pretzelman?" Peter frowned, then it dawned on him. He pointed at the familiar face. "_This_ is Hubert Pretzelman?"

"Yeah."

"And who are they?"

"They say they're his parents."

"Well, looks like Neal has some explaining to do."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note <strong>**Addendum:**

I think I have to explain this a bit more, but I didn't wanna spoil the surprise. This came about when afiawri and I discussed that there are still fans out there who don't think Neal Caffrey is his real name and is just another alias (which we both don't agree with). Here's part of that conversation:

_**afiawri:** I understand the in-universe arguments for an alias, but the writers always struck me as the types not to make Neal so deceptive at his core. Or smart enough not to give fans some dorky name from his past to hate. :) Either one._  
><em><strong>tj_teejay:<strong> And, uhm, dorky name? You mean like Neal's real name being Herbert Pretzelman or something?_  
><em><strong>afiawri:<strong> Funnily enough, the name the jumped to my mind was Hubert. (That or Eugene.) Though I never would've come up with Pretzelman, wow. =)_  
><em><strong>tj_teejay:<strong> Hubert is a good one too. Eugene sounds too undorky, if you ask me. So, who's going to write a drabble where it's revealed that Neal Caffrey is really called Hubert Pretzelman?_

This conversation was a while ago, but somehow I just remembered it and thought this prompt would fit perfectly to explore the Hubert Pretzelman story a little further.

PS: It's not entirely impossible that I'm gonna write a follow up. Stay tuned. :o)


	2. The Secret of Hubert Pretzelman

**Title****: **The Secret Of Hubert Pretzelman  
><strong>Authors:<strong> afiawri & tj_teejay  
><strong>Genre: <strong>Gen  
><strong>CharactersPairings: **Neal, Peter, Diana, Jones  
><strong>Rating: <strong>PG  
><strong>Summary: <strong>The cat is out of the bag. Neal Caffrey is really called Hubert Pretzelman. Now you'll get to find out why.  
><strong>Author's Note:<strong> A few people asked me to also write Neal's 'explaining', and I couldn't resist. Most of the dialogue is afiawri's original reponse to my challenge to write a drabble about Hubert Pretzelman. Of course I'm posting this with her permission. I guess this also kinda explains why Peter couldn't find any information about Neal from before his 18th birthday. And now... enjoy the story of Hubert Pretzelman.  
>Also, thanks for the quick beta-read, afiawri!<br>**Disclaimer:** White Collar, its characters and its settings belong to Jeff Eastin and USA Network. And, guys? Your characters are not only welcome, they're wonderful. I'm just borrowing, I promise.

* * *

><p>Files were strewn on the conference table, Diana's eyes were glued to an article about their intended target. Peter was leafing through credit card receipts and phone logs, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn't wrap his head around what had just transpired.<p>

Neal Caffrey had conned them again. Peter would have to lie, however, if he hadn't taken a kind of twisted pleasure in the look on Neal's face upon entering the White Collar office and seeing his parents there.

Neal had given Peter a pleading look (one that screamed _Help me!_), but Peter had just given him a good natured clap on the shoulder and told him to go take his parents out for coffee or something. Neal hadn't been seen since.

Now, over an hour later, Peter saw Neal entering the glass doors to the bullpen. Alone. He came walking straight into the conference room.

Peter smiled a wistful, somewhat mischievous smile. No one but him and Bottler knew yet, though there had been whispered rumors going around. This would be fun.

"The prodigal son returns," Peter quipped. "So..."

"Don't, Peter," Neal said threateningly.

"Hubert..." Peter teased.

"I'm serious, don't you—" Neal's eyes spelled _if looks could kill._

Diana glanced between them. "Hubert?"

"... Pretzelman," Peter finished.

Diana looked at them blankly for a moment. "Our susp—? Oh." A wide grin blossomed over her face.

And then, unbelievably, Jones was blowing in with a file, "Peter we have to—"

Peter was still grinning stupidly. "Jones, meet—"

"Peter!" Neal cut in.

Diana finished for him, "Hubert Pretzelman."

"That's a really horrible choice for an alias," Jones said, quite serious.

Neal winced. This was going to be a nightmare. "Or for a child."

"I thought the guy's name—"

"We all thought his name was _Neal_," Diana said pointedly.

"Oh." Jones looked at Neal as though assessing whether the name would just slip off him like so much water on a duck. "Hubert Pretzelman?"

"Yeah."

Jones shrugged. "Sounds very 20's. Fits."

"Fits?" Neal asked incredulously. "Fits? Seriously? It is the dorkiest, most ridiculous name out there on the planet!"

"Which is why you're now going by Neal Caffrey?" Peter asked.

Neal sighed. "Would _you _want to be called Hubert Pretzelman?"

Peter shrugged. "I like Peter Burke just fine."

"Yeah," Neal sighed again, "So would I. Anything but—"

"Hubert Pretzelman," Jones cut in, now grinning too. He looked at Peter and Diana in turn, then at Neal. "So, what are we supposed to call you now? Huby? Bert? Bertie?"

Neal glowered at them. "Don't you dare!"

Peter sobered for a moment. "So, just how legitimate an alias _is _Neal Caffrey? Do we need to look into social security fraud here? Passport forgery? Maybe a little identity theft?"

"No, Peter, it's not like that. It's all legal, I swear. My mother's maiden name is Caffrey. Neal is my middle name. I had it changed and registered. You can check with the authorities in Spring, Texas."

Diana muttered under her breath, "Hubert Neal Caffrey-Pretzelman. Nice."

"Wait a minute," Peter asked, now curious. "You grew up in Texas? How come you don't have an accent?"

It was then that Neal put on his best native Texan accent, "Well, y'all ain't gonna believe that there's sump'n called speech trainin'."

It left the three FBI agents open-mouthed and speechless.

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><p>THE END.<p> 


End file.
